


Family Portrait: Of Pirates and Hair Dye

by portraitofemmy, rainbow_marbles



Series: Never Let You Go [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Blow Jobs, Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, Domestic, Established Relationship, Family, Fatherhood, Fluff, Kid Fic, M/M, Slice of Life, Steve's Pecs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-01
Updated: 2016-06-01
Packaged: 2018-07-11 12:01:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7049872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/portraitofemmy/pseuds/portraitofemmy, https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainbow_marbles/pseuds/rainbow_marbles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You could have blonde hair too.”</p><p>"You think so, huh?" he asks, thinking it over for a moment. He's been blonde before, it wasn't a good look for him.</p><p>"Yes!" Joey says brightly. "You'll look like me and daddy." He's giving Bucky those excited eyes, like Bucky going blonde would make his entire life, and Bucky is not even remotely immune to that look, so he turns down the cosmetics aisle even though he knows he's making a mistake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Family Portrait: Of Pirates and Hair Dye

**Author's Note:**

> This is all [Sebastian](https://www.instagram.com/p/BF6LnipumsQ/) Stan's [fault](https://www.instagram.com/p/BFZl_0fKXbU/).

There’s nothing more disconcerting than being in the middle of casually looking over a carton of eggs in the grocery store and having a stranger come up and comment on your kid. Bucky wouldn’t have thought it would happen all that often, but Joey’s usually pretty content to stand at Bucky’s side and hold on to the edge of his basket when they shop, which means strangers are forever coming up to tell him _how well behaved his little one is._

So when a woman with one kid hanging off of her cart and the other tearing off down the dairy isle stops in front of him, he blinks up at her, carefully putting his eggs into the basket hanging off the elbow of his prosthetic.

"Your son is so well behaved," the woman comments, sighing wistfully.

"Thanks," Bucky says politely. He's always at a bit of a loss in these moments. He doesn't know these people and he doesn't know how to nicely make chit-chat until he's left alone again. Especially because what he really wants to say is 'that's because we raised him well.'

"So adorable too," she coos. "Gets his hair from his mother, huh?"

“From his father, actually,” Bucky says tightly, because Joey is Steve in miniature, the only part of Peggy in Joey’s face is his nose. His eyes are bright, bright blue, and if they bear a passing resemblance to Bucky’s grey ones it’s only because people don’t know Steve’s.

“Oh,” the woman says, clearly surprised. “Sorry, I thought he was yours,” she says awkwardly.

“He is,” Bucky says tersely, feeling decidedly less amiable now.

“Sorry, I-” Bucky thankfully doesn’t get to find out what she was about to say next, because her other kid zooms past them with an open bottle of soda, leaving a messy trail after himself. “I have to go,” she stammers in embarrassment and takes after her kid. 

Bucky watches her go, cursing the sudden knots that have settled in his stomach. No one’s implied Joey wasn’t really his in years. And even though he knows this woman didn’t really mean it like that, it still stings. Joey’s always been a very perceptive, empathic kid though and he quickly picks up on Bucky’s sadness, tugs on his sleeve and says “You could have blonde hair too.”

"You think so, huh?" he asks, thinking it over for a moment. He's been blonde before, it wasn't a good look for him.

"Yes!" Joey says brightly. "You'll look like me and daddy." He's giving Bucky those excited eyes, like Bucky going blonde would make his entire life, and Bucky is not even remotely immune to that look, so he turns down the cosmetics aisle even though he knows he's making a mistake.

He points out the different kinds of hair bleach to Joey, kneeling down so he’s at toddler level and helping him read the packaging. “Helping” mostly consists of Joey pointing at individual words he knows and Bucky reading the rest, but hey, Bucky’s all for teachable moments.

There’s one package of bleach in a silver box called SPLASH! which Joey seems to think is hilarious, keeps pointing at it and whispering “Splasssh!” to Bucky, then giggling under his breath, and what the hell. This is an awful idea anyway, might as well be fun for one of them.

The silver box of hair bleach goes on the conveyor belt next to the milk, bread and eggs, and Joey’s so excited he can’t stand still the whole time they’re in line, keeps jumping up to look at the box on the belt.

He wants to hold the box on the ride home and Bucky would let him if he wasn't slightly paranoid that he'll squeeze it too hard and somehow get bleach all over himself. Joey makes a disappointed face when Bucky tells him no, but the excitement of it all is enough to override it.

They barely get into the apartment before Joey is yelling excitedly. "Daddy, Daddy, Papa is going to have hair like you and me!" he exclaims and runs around all the rooms, trying to find Steve.

“Daddy’s a work, kid, it’s like four in the afternoon,” Bucky points out, making a beeline for the kitchen, and dumps the milk and eggs in the fridge before he can get distracted and end up leaving them sitting around for hours. It’s happened before. Toddlers are very distracting.

“When’s he coming home?” Joey asks, pouting when he comes back into the kitchen.

“Two hours from now, like always,” Bucky says patiently, bending down to help Joey climb up onto a counter stool, then kisses the top of his head softly. Joey beams at him, and Bucky’s heart squeezes.

“Can we do your hair before he comes home and surprise him??”

The obvious answer to that should be no. Steve should be there to help, because not bleaching his own hair by himself will probably yield better results. If nothing else, Steve should be there to keep Joey busy so nothing goes wrong. But well, Bucky isn't exactly making sound life choices right now.

"I can do my hair in the bathroom, by myself, if you promise to stay in the living room and watch a cartoon while I do it."

"But-"

"No buts. The bleach will make my hair like yours and Daddy's, but it can be very dangerous if you're not careful and get it in your eyes or mouth, so we can either wait for Daddy to come home and you can watch me do it under his supervision, or you promise to be a good boy and stay in the living room with your toys and the TV," Bucky says.

Joey pouts for a minute, and Bucky just raises an eyebrow, waiting. He’s gotten through the terrible twos with this kid. He’s patient. He can play the long con.

“I wanna watch,” Joey sighs and then gives Bucky a suspicious look. “Is Daddy gonna try to talk you out of it?”

Bucky laughs, scuffing his hand through his hair. It’s shorter now than it was when he met Steve, but still long enough to pull back on the front and the sides. Long enough for Steve to get his hands in. “Probably, but I think he’d be more annoyed if I did it and didn’t tell him.”

Joey huffs and crosses his arms over his chest and it is so utterly adorable, Bucky's itching to take a picture. "Fine, we'll wait for Daddy," he says. "Can I still watch the cartoon though?" he asks hopefully.

"Yeah, kid, you can still watch the cartoon," Bucky chuckles. "You want a snack too?"

"Yes please," Joey says and holds his hands out so Bucky can help him out of the chair. Once his feet are on the ground he makes a dash for the TV and turns it on.

Bucky ends up sitting on the couch with his tablet, while Joey munches his way through carrots and peanut butter. He’s helping the Bishops update their cataloguing system, trying to figure out if there’s a way they can offer e-books, and that sucks in his attention for about an hour until Joey climbs into his lap, wriggling under his arms and in front of the tablet.

“Papa,” he says solemnly, tugging a little at Bucky’s shirt. “Papa, there’s a pirate princess and she’s trying to steal my gold.”

“Is she?” Bucky grins, setting his tablet aside. Work can wait. “Well we can’t have that.”

They spend the next hour crawling around the living room and hatching a plan of defense. They've got the couch cushions, pillows and a blanket set up in a fort and they're hiding inside with the gold when there's the distinct sound of the front door opening.

"Do you think it's the princess?" Bucky stage whispers.

"It might be," Joey says, eyes round and big.

"Guys, I'm home," Steve calls through the apartment.

“Shhhh,” Bucky whispers, crouching behind his cushion and Joey giggles. “Can’t let the princess know where we are.”

“Guys?” Steve asks, voice approaching the living room, and they wait until his footsteps are in the doorway, then Bucky nods.

“AVAST!” Bucky shouts, popping up and pointing a feather duster at Steve like a sword. “Captain Joseph says no pirate princess will steal his gold.”

“YEAH!” Joey yells, popping up wearing Bucky’s baseball cap like a helmet, and Steve jumps about a foot in the air.

"What the hell guys?!" he says, clutching at his chest, eyes wide.

"The princess said a bad word!" Joey exclaims.

"She did! I think this calls for a tickle attack!" Bucky says gleefully and helps Joey clamber over the cushions so they can both get at Steve.

"Guys no, no tickle attack! I'm sorry, I apologize for the bad word," Steve says, hands held up in defense.

"Not good enough!" Joey yells and reaches up to tickle Steve's stomach.

They all end up in a pile on the floor, with Bucky sitting on Steve’s knees, bracing Joey’s back where he’s planted on Steve’s chest, tickling like crazy.

“Mercy,” Steve cries, and Joey giggles, flopping to lay on Steve’s chest. Steve lets out a little ooof, but hugs his son close, kissing his hair in greeting.

“You did it, kid, you stopped the pirate princess,” Bucky says fondly, climbing off Steve to sit next to him. Joey grins, scrambling off of Steve, and crawls onto Bucky’s lap, facing his father.

“Well, this isn’t what I expected to come home too,” Steve sighs, and Bucky grins conspiratorially down at Joey, who looks downright gleeful.

“We have a surprise, Daddy!”

"Getting ambushed and tickled into submission wasn't the surprise?" Steve asks as he sits up.

"No! It's better than that!" Joey says excitedly. "Papa's gonna make his hair look like ours!"

"He's... what?" Steve asks, looking from Joey to Bucky inquisitively.

"I'm going to bleach my hair blonde," Bucky helpfully clarifies, but Steve doesn't look any less confused.

"But why?"

“Because I asked him too!” Joey exclaims, bouncing a little in Bucky’s lap. Steve gives Bucky a look like _Really? You’re going to let our four year old dictate your fashion choices?_

 _It’s complicated?_ Bucky mouths, leaning down to kiss Joey’s soft blonde hair. “We were at the grocery store and we decided to try it. I bought bleach.”

“You’re telling me this story later,” Steve says pointedly, and Bucky sighs, nodding.

“But I wanted to watch and Papa said that I couldn’t until you were home and could keep me from ‘sploding it on my face, and also you’d be mad,” Joey interjects.

"Yes, I probably wouldn't be really happy to come home to such a drastic change," Steve nods. "So, you're determined to do this?"

Bucky shrugs. "It's hair, I can always re-dye it or cut it off. It'll grow back."

"I guess that's true," Steve sighs, looking like he wants to say more, but doesn't want to wipe the excited smile off of Joey's face. Bucky can relate. "Well okay, I'd like to have dinner first if that's alright with you, but then we can get to it."

Joey opens his mouth, but Bucky cuts him off. "Your Daddy has had a long day at work, he's probably really hungry and we don't want Daddy to be hungry, do we?"

“I had carrots and peanut butter after preschool,” Joey informs Steve, clambering off Bucky as Steve gets to his knees and Steve laughs.

“So you’re not hungry? We shouldn’t give you dinner?” Steve asks, and Joey makes an outraged face.

“Nuh uh!”

“Go on kid, go find the pasta sauce,” Bucky nudges Joey along, and then leans in to kiss Steve softly.

“I’ll explain later, I promise,” he says softly, nuzzling his nose against Steve’s. Steve’s hand comes up to cradle the back of his neck, pulling him in for a longer kiss. 

“Okay. I’m not upset about it or anything, you know?"

"I know, but it's a big change. I wouldn't tell you not to do something drastic with your hair either, but I'd be a little upset if you didn't even mention it to me before doing it," Bucky says.

"Yeah. I'm kind of really fond of how you look like right now," Steve smiles softly, tugging at his hair lightly.

"Thank you, I try," Bucky jokes and laughs at the exasperated look Steve gives him.

"I found the sauce!" Joey yells from the kitchen, immediately followed by the sound of something clattering to the floor. "I didn't break anything, I promise!"

“Oh god,” Steve sighs, dropping his forehead onto Bucky’s shoulder, and Bucky laughs.

“Welcome to life with a four year old,” Bucky says fondly, then stands up, offering Steve his hand. “Come on, old man. You do pasta with the kid and I’ll make salad.”

“Old man, huh?” Steve teases, swatting at Bucky’s ass as they walk into the kitchen.

Bucky stands at the counter cutting vegetables and watches fondly as Steve hoists Joey up onto his hip and helps him measure out the pasta, fill the pot, and put it on to boil.

"Can't you make it cook any faster?" Joey demands, bored now that the pasta has fully submerged into the water and the pot is just bubbling along.

"No, it's gotta cook for nine minutes, otherwise it'll be too hard to chew," Steve says. "But if you're bored, you can help me set the table."

"Can I have pasta on my dinosaur plate?" Joey asks, making Steve laugh.

"Yes, you can have your dinosaur plate," he says and carries Joey over to the cabinet where they keep the plates.

Joey, naturally, manages to get pasta sauce _all over himself_ over the course of the meal. It’s a little exasperating, because Bucky thinks they should be approaching the stage where more food goes into Joey’s mouth than on his face.

These days Joey doesn’t so much need help taking a bath as he does needing supervision to make sure he doesn’t flood the bathroom, so Steve takes him in and helps him fill the tub and then sits on the toilet answering work emails while Joey de-pastas himself while Bucky loads the dishwasher.

Their nighttime routine is pretty well established at this point, and sometimes it still catches Bucky a little off guard, how well their family works. He misses having a baby, sometimes, the little voice in the back of his head telling him if they had another he could be there from the start this time. But Joey’s still a really sweet, affectionate kid, and he’s nervous to bring up anything that could upset that ease.

Bucky's inner musings are interrupted by Joey thundering out of the bathroom in his pj's, yelling, "I'm clean, can we do your hair now?!"

"I don't know... it's getting awfully close to your bed time..." Bucky says slowly.

"But, but, you promised!" Joey exclaims, looking so utterly betrayed, Bucky’s stomach clenches with guilt for teasing him.

"No, I did, I did, I was just joking a little, I'm sorry," he rushes to apologize.

"Then you can have hair like me and Daddy!" Joey says excitedly, rushing to grab the bag with the bleach from the counter. Steve, following Joey out of the bathroom, gives Bucky a suddenly knowing look, but at least he doesn't say anything.

The kind of bleach they bought consists of a liquid and a primer that need to be mixed, so bucky mixes them and lets them set while he goes and puts on a white t-shirt and shitty sweats. Then he motions to Joey and Steve and they all traipse into the bathroom.

Steve sits on the toilet again with Joey in this lap, while Bucky stands in front of the mirror, doing his best to spread the bleach evenly around his hair.

"You seem to know what you're doing," Steve teases, and Bucky glares at him.

Joey watches raptly as Bucky applies the bleach to his hair, seems fascinated with the process, though it does seem to go a little too slow for him.

"Can't you just put it on your hair and rub it in like shampoo?" he asks after a few minutes.

"He can't no," Steve answers for him. "It wouldn't spread evenly and then Papa would look all spotty like a cow," he says, a gleam in his eye, and Bucky huffs.

"Alright there peanut gallery, pipe down, I gotta concentrate," he says mock seriously as he turns his head to make sure he's got the sides covered.

“Why does it work?” Joey asks his father very seriously, and Steve’s face does that funny thing it always does when Joey asks a question that he doesn’t know the answer to. Bucky bites his lip to keep from laughing.

“Let’s look it up,” Steve says gallantly, and pulls his phone out of his pocket to pull up Google.

“What did parents do before the internet?” Bucky wonders aloud, and Steve glances up at him.

“I genuinely have no idea.”

Bucky finishes up with the bleach as Steve finds an article on hair bleaching and gives Joey the simplified version of it.

"Alright, now we gotta wait thirty minutes and then I'll be all pretty and blonde like you," he says as he sets his hair so it'll stay in place and not drip everywhere.

"We gotta wait for another half hour?!" Joey says indignantly and both Steve and Bucky laugh.

"Yes we do kiddo, didn't you listen when I just said the bleach needs time to work on the hair?" Steve asks.

“Tell ya’ what?” Bucky says, trying to ignore they way his scalp is starting to itch. “Why don’t we do teeth and bedtime books now, and then afterwards you can see my hair before you go to sleep. How’s that sound?”

“Okay,” Joey agrees easily enough, and Bucky leaves Steve to help Joey brush his teeth. Then Joey runs to his room, eager to pick out books for bedtime.

“Daddy read this one,” he instructs, passing Steve a book of fairy tales, and then hands Bucky a pirate book. “And Papa you can read this one.”

The fairy tale book is long enough that Bucky’s pretty confident slipping away after his pirate book is done to start rinsing out his hair. It’s getting to be past Joey’s bedtime, and while this is a special night, he doesn’t want to set a precedent.

He washes all the bleach out and then runs a comb through the wet hair. He checks himself in the mirror to make sure he really didn't miss a spot. It all looks fine and he decides to blow dry it a little to boot, so the blonde will look like it's supposed to. He looks as ridiculous as he thought he would when it's all done, but all he cares about right now is Joey's reaction.

"Ready to finally see?" he calls out as he walks back to Joey’s room.

"Yes! Come onnn Papa!" Joey urges him on and lets out an excited gasp when Bucky walks through the door, his little hands flying up to cover his mouth.

Steve, for his part, puts in a really valiant effort not to laugh, but it’s easy enough to ignore him when Joey’s scrambling over the bed to get a closer look. Bucky get down on his knees, tipping his head towards Joey so he can see more clearly.

“You look so cool, Papa,” Joey says excitedly. “Can I touch it?”

“Yeah, the bleach is out. It’s just hair though, kid.”

That doesn’t stop Joey from tugging none-to-gently at Bucky’s hair, but he can’t even be mad. “I like it,” Joey proclaims, then upon revision, says, “I liked your old hair too though. It looked like Mom’s does in pictures.”

"Yeah, it did, didn't it?" Bucky says softly. Joey is his son in every way that counts, but they've made sure Joey knows Peggy too. It's been three years and Bucky's never been jealous of her, isn't now either, but maybe he can admit to himself that bleaching his hair wasn't entirely just for Joey either.

"So you won't want me to keep bleaching it forever?" he ask before things have a chance to turn melancholy.

"Nah. I like that you look like me now, but it takes too long. And it smells icky," Joey makes a face.

"Yeah, it really does," Bucky laughs and reaches out to hug Joey. "Alright kiddo, it's time for you to go to sleep now, it's past your bedtime."

“Love you Papa,” Joey says into the hug, and Bucky’s heart squeezes. He ruffles Joey’s hair with his prosthetic then nudges him back towards the pillows.

“Love you too, kid,” he promises, gives Joey’s forehead a kiss and then steps back, letting Steve finish up bedtime.

He’s in their bedroom, looking judgmentally at his own hair in the mirror above the dresser when Steve comes in, walking over to wrap his arms around Bucky’s waist.

“You owe me a story,” he says gently, and Bucky sighs, leaning back into his partner’s strong embrace.

“There was a lady at the grocery store who said that Joey must get his hair from his mother and I had a bout of temporary insanity.”

Steve snorts and leans in to nose at Bucky's neck. "So your gut reaction was to go for the bleach?"

"No, it was Joey's idea. I think he caught on I was a little upset at the implication that he wasn't mine and decided changing my hair color was the obvious solution. And I knew it was a bad idea, but it didn't seem as crazy at the time," Bucky sighs.

"We've got a perceptive little boy," Steve says softly. "More perceptive than me. You wanna talk about it?"

“No,” Bucky says, and it’s the truth. He turns in Steve’s arms for a real hug, and nothing in the world has ever felt as safe to him as Steve’s hugs. “I’m alright, I’m not upset. I’m well aware of how stupid I look, I have been down this road before.”

“It’s not so bad,” Steve says thoughtfully, reaching up to rake his fingers through Bucky’s hair, then gives him a sly look. “You didn’t leave the bleach in long enough for it to go platinum blond.”

“I will never forgive my mother for showing you that,” Bucky says emphatically, and Steve laughs, pulling him in for a kiss.

“I love you,” he murmurs against Bucky’s lips. “I love getting to raise my son with you.”

"I love you too," Bucky says, rubbing their noses together. "And Joey. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

"You still gonna think that when you have to go out in public tomorrow?" Steve asks teasingly and Bucky groans.

"Steve, we were having a moment, you're terrible at this," he huffs.

"It's been three years, you know I've got no game," Steve says as he walks them backwards and tumbles them down to the bed.

"Zero game. Absolutely awful," Bucky says between kisses.

“No idea why you’re in bed with me,” Steve agrees, and Bucky giggles, burying his face in Steve’s neck.

“Pal, I just bleached my hair. You think I’ve got good judgement?”

Steve’s hand settles warm on to his lower back, the other one coming up to cradle the back of his head. Bucky lets his body weight settle, not so much holding himself over Steve as laying half on top of him. His body is thrumming in the way that could turn into arousal if he stoked it, but he’s not entirely sure he wants that tonight.

"Terrible judgment," Steve agrees. "But done for a noble reason." The soft look he's giving Bucky makes it really hard to resist kissing him again, so he doesn't.

He nips gently at Steve's bottom lip and the other man opens up for him without hesitation and when Steve's hand settles at the back of his neck, heavy and possessive, he knows he doesn't want it to stop there.

"You wanna?" he asks between kisses and gets a quick nod from Steve in return.

"Yeah, yeah, shit, always Buck," Steve breathes, letting out a low groan as Bucky sucks at a spot under his jaw.

Steve hadn’t bothered to change after work, so he’s still in a button up and nice jeans, and Bucky gets a little bit of a thrill from kissing down Steve’s neck and hitting the first open button on his shirt, right under the dip between his collarbones. Bucky licks at the little furrow, and Steve’s breath stutters, turning on, he’s turning on for Bucky and that never stops being thrilling, despite the familiarity of it.

Working the buttons of Steve’s shirt undone with his right hand, he uses his prosthetic to gather the fabric up, untucking it from Steve’s jeans and pushing it to hang off his shoulders. He’s wearing a Y-back under his button up, and Bucky grins, pushing the undershirt up until it’s gathered in the crooks of Steve’s armpits, leaving his chest and abs on display.

“You have a fetish,” Steve complains as Bucky leans down to bite at the curve of one of his pecs, and Bucky chuckles against his skin.

“It’s a kink, not a fetish.”

"Whatever you wanna call it, it's disconcerting," Steve huffs, but it's all for show. Bucky can see both of his nipples have hardened up and he's arching his back slightly.

"You say that, but your body is saying something else," Bucky purrs and licks his way over until he can close his mouth around a nipple and sucks on it gently.

Steve keens, sliding his hand further up into Bucky's hair, tugging slightly. Bucky hums in response and that earns him another sound.

"That's right baby, love hearing you," Bucky says and moves to pay the same attention to the other nipple.

“Ca-can’t be too loud, we’ve got a nosey kid,” Steve points out and Bucky pulls back to glare at him.

“Boner killer,” he accuses, and Steve laughs, and tugs Bucky up for a kiss by his hair. It makes Bucky moan, despite the warning about volume. He likes getting his hair pulled at the best of times, but his scalp must be extra sensitive from the bleach. He can feel Steve’s smile against his lips, blunt fingernails scratching across his scalp. He shivers.

“How about you play with my hair while I suck your dick?” Bucky murmurs into his mouth, and Steve blushes, which makes Bucky smile. Smile, and nip at the full curve of Steve’s lower lip, sucking it into his mouth before pulling back.

“Twist my arm,” Steve manages, and Bucky grins, going for Steve’s belt buckle.

He undoes Steve's pants and tugs them down enough to reach in and pull Steve’s cock out of his boxers, tucking the band under his balls and leaving him standing at attention and leaking slightly.

"Someone's happy to see me," Bucky jokes, wiggling his eyebrows.

"He'd be even more happy if you wouldn't just leave him standing in the breeze," Steve says pointedly.

"So bossy," Bucky complains, but leans in anyway, his tongue coming out to lap at the slit where Steve's pre-come is pearling up so nicely.

Before Steve, Bucky had never known what familiarity added to intimacy, the way knowledge about your partner can settle into your bones, heady like a drug. He knows exactly what’ll happen when he thumbs the soft skin at the base of Steve’s cock, right above his balls, as he sucks the head into his mouth, and he revels in the knowledge. It makes a shiver of arousal run through him, the power that comes from knowing.

Just like he knows that if he traces the vein along the underside with his tongue on the backstroke, Steve’s hips will arch and he’ll–

Steve laughs, sudden and bursting and loud, and Bucky almost gags, confused and caught off guard.

“I’m sorry,” Steve pants, and when Bucky looks up at him he’s covering his face with his hand. “I’m sorry, I just looked down and you were blonde.”

"Seriously?" Bucky asks, incredulous, because... seriously??

"I just... I'm so used to looking down and seeing a brown mop of hair, and now it's blonde and..." he trails off into another laugh.

"You are unbelievable, you're laughing at me while I have your cock in my mouth? Because of my hair?" Bucky says indignantly.

"Sorry, sorry. I'm really sorry," Steve apologizes, lifting himself up on his elbows. "It just caught me off guard, is all, I promise. It's not a critique of your skills."

“I would hope not!” And now Steve’s laughing again, but Bucky somehow suspects that’s more to do with how indignant Bucky sounds than anything else. “I will leave you to deal with this all by yourself,” he threatens, and Steve bites his lip, clearly trying to force his face into order.

“No, baby, I didn’t mean anything by it,” he swears, and when he reaches out to stroke Bucky’s hair, Bucky glares at him. “I promise.” Steve’s fingers settle into his hair again, and try as he might, Bucky is pretty weak for that. 

“If it’s gonna be a problem you can close your eyes,” he grumbles, still a little hurt, and Steve shushes him soothingly.

“I like looking at you. I love the way you look for me.”

Bucky takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. "So, you gonna let me blow you in peace?"

"Yes, please, do go on," Steve nods and Bucky relents, takes Steve back into his mouth.

He's falling back into the rhythm of it, his head bobbing as his hand works in tandem, when he hears it again. The quiet snort Steve's obviously trying to pass off as a cough and he looks up, the tip of Steve's cock still in his mouth as he levels a glare at him.

Steve's staring back at him, eyes wide and biting his lip hard so no sound escapes. For a moment neither of them moves, their eyes locked onto each other, and then Steve starts shaking with the force of his contained laughter.

Bucky pulls off with a clipped, “I’m dyeing it back tomorrow,” and now Steve’s laughter breaks free, peals of it echoing around their bedroom.

“No, honey, c’mere,” Steve coaxes, and Bucky lets himself be pulled up to settle against Steve’s chest, still shaking with laughter. “It doesn’t look that bad.”

“It looks awful, and we’re never going to have sex again,” Bucky says morosely.

Steve pauses for a minute, mustering up a straight face, and then says, “You can fuck me from behind,” and starts laughing again when Bucky slaps his chest. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I swear this time it was because I kept thinking _don’t laugh, don’t laugh,_ which of course made me laugh.”

“This was a terrible idea,” Bucky mutters, and more actual hurt leaks into his voice than he’d really intended.

"No hey," Steve says softly. "It was really rash and a little stupid, but you made Joey really happy, and I'm sorry for ruining something that was a bonding moment between you two because I'm a jerk."

"You really are," Bucky sighs.

"I know and I really am sorry," Steve says, cups his cheek and tilts Bucky's face up. "It's really not that terrible. It's gonna take a bit of getting used to, but you make it work, in a really odd way."

"In a really odd way?" Bucky says indignantly.

"Yes. It really shouldn't be a good look for you, but it still kind of is. I still think you're gorgeous, but then, you could shave off all of your hair and start wearing trash bags and I'd still think you're beautiful," Steve say sincerely.

“Let’s not test that theory,” Bucky says dryly, and lets Steve coax him back into a kiss, then another and another.

“Love you,” Steve whispers, and that’s enough to chase a shiver down Bucky’s spine, pick up the threads of his arousal where they’d dropped.

“No laughing this time,” he threatens, pushing himself back down Steve’s body, and when Steve smiles at him it’s playful and affectionate, but there’s no laughter.

“No laughing,” Steve agrees, and then his breath catches when Bucky takes his cock back in, focusing on coaxing him back to full hardness.

He takes his time, sucking on the head, his tongue teasing at the frenulum. He's being a bit of a tease, he knows, but revenge is not the only reason he's doing it. Steve gets impatient, but Bucky likes dragging it out, loves winding Steve up and making a mess of him with his mouth.

Steve's body is shaking again, but this time it's not from laughter. Bucky can feel Steve's thighs and ass tensing up, his whole body thrumming with impending orgasm, but Bucky pulls off, licking down the shaft so he can suck on Steve's balls.

"B-Bucky..." Steve moans, but doesn't say more, either because he knows this is payback for the laughing or because he physically can't. Bucky smugly thinks it's a little bit of both.

Steve’s fingers tighten in Bucky’s hair when Bucky tongues the seam in his balls, and Bucky moans, shameless, pushing his head into Steve’s hand. Steve chuckles a little, not the laughter from earlier, but fond exasperation, and then tugs a bit at Bucky’s hair. It shoots a wave of pleasure down his spine and Bucky goes back up to Steve’s cock, following the tug.

“S’right, I’m supposed to be playing with your hair, aren’t I?” Steve pants, and Bucky rewards him with a long, deep stroke down with his lips to the base of Steve’s cock, swallowing around the rest.

“Fuck,” Steve moans, tugging helplessly at Bucky’s hair and Bucky pulls back to breathe before deepthroating him again.

He presses his hands firmly down on Steve's hips just in case, but he knows he doesn't really have to. Steve loves it when Bucky takes him down his throat, but he's not a big fan of face fucking. Bucky doesn't mind it, but Steve prefers to lay back and let Bucky have all the control, to wring the orgasm out of him.

Bucky sets to the task with vigour, swallowing Steve down entirely on each downstroke. He can hear Steve desperate moans and whimpers, muffled by his fist now, and when Steve starts tensing up again, he doesn't let up, works him over with his mouth until Steve's hand tightens in his hair convulsively and he spills down Bucky's throat.

Bucky swallows it down easily, his throat working around Steve's cock until Steve goes slack under him and Bucky gently pulls off.

Bucky’s hard in his sweatpants, turned on from Steve’s pleasure and getting his hair pulled, and when he sits up he can’t help but reach down to cup his own dick through his pants.

Steve makes such a beautiful picture spread out beneath him, jeans open and his dick going soft, glistening with Bucky’s spit, shirts hanging open and rucked up, his skin flushed down the swell of his pecs with sweat standing out on the washboard of his abs.

“You’re so fucking hot,” Bucky moans, giving up and pulling his cock out to give it a long pull, pleasure curling in his balls and making him whimper. “God, Steve.”

Steve just blinks at him, visibly still a bit out of it, and the fact that he's responsible for that shoots another roll of pleasure down Bucky's spine, makes his hand speed up a bit.

"Want you to come on me," Steve says suddenly and Bucky has to grip at the base of his cock tightly, because god, _god_.

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Want to watch you get yourself off and then come on me," Steve says, clumsily lifting his hand and pushing his undershirt up a bit more, arching his back so his chest stands out.

“Oh _fuck_ ,” Bucky swears softly, knee-walking forward a little so he’s kneeling over Steve’s hips, the planes of his stomach and chest on display under Bucky, a beautiful expanse of pale skin to shoot all over. His balls feel tight, good, and his head’s swimming with it. “Get you messy?”

“Yeah,” Steve agrees, and the hand that’s not holding his shirt up comes down to cup Bucky’s hip, thumb stroking along the furrow of muscle between groin and thigh. “Come on my tits.”

“ _Fuck_ ,” Bucky moans again, and it’s curling at the base of his spine, right on the edge, so fucking turned on he can’t think because this is all for him. Steve only talks like this for him. “Push ‘em together for me?”

There's a slight blush staining Steve's cheeks that has nothing to do with exertion, but he doesn't hesitate, moves his hands up and pushes his chest together, making it stand out even more.

"God, look at you," Bucky breathes, the hand on his cock moving before he even thinks about it. He only needs a few strokes, just a little stimulation, before his orgasm grips him, stripes of pearly white liquid shooting out and landing neatly all over Steve's perfect tits.

He's panting, shaking slightly from the power of his release, but he gives himself a couple of more strokes, wrings every last droplet from himself to paint Steve with it.

He reaches up thoughtlessly to rub the streaks of his come into Steve's skin a little and Steve moans, reaching for Bucky tugging him down into a kiss.

"Thanks," Bucky murmurs after a few minutes of lazy afterglow kisses, nuzzling his nose against Steve's. "For indulging my weird kink."

"You could be into weirder stuff," Steve points out amiably, then kisses him again. "Plus I did kind of laugh at you."

"Yeah you did, asshole," Bucky grumbles, but there's no heat to it, and he flops down onto his side, tucks in close to Steve.

"I really need to shower now though," Steve points out.

"Mmn, I guess," Bucky concedes reluctantly.

"You could always join me, enjoy your handiwork some more," Steve says with a smile.

"You have the best ideas baby," Bucky says and lifts himself up on his elbow so he can get a good look at Steve's chest. "I really outdid myself," he says seriously.

"Oh my god and you tell me I'm awful," Steve groans. "Come on you dork, let's get clean," he says and slaps Bucky's thigh playfully as he sits up.

Despite the teasing, they don’t end up doing more than lazy kissing and mild groping in the shower. Bucky’s long day of toddler-work-toddler is catching up with him, and Steve’s always a little wiped out after work.

Still, the intimacy of the shared shower is nice, and Bucky’s never going to complain about getting to put his hands on a wet, soapy Steve. The parenting instinct doesn’t let them linger too long, in case Joey needs one of them, but Steve slips out of the bathroom with a soft kiss, leaving Bucky to towel out his newly blonde hair.

He eyes himself critically in the mirror for a couple minutes, but in the end he has to admit it could have been worse. It was worse, when he did it in high school and stripped it all the way down to platinum. It doesn’t quite look like Steve and Joey’s, too much of that orange tint of brown-hair-stripped-blond, but he smiles in spite of himself. Really could have been worse.

He chucks the towel he’d been using in the hamper and follows his partner to bed.

**Author's Note:**

> This is now officially a series. There will probably be more in the future. Because we’re terrible. If you wanna hang with us on tumblr we're [girl3wonder](http://girl3wonder.tumblr.com/) and [portraitofemy](http://portraitofemmy.tumblr.com/). Thank you so much for reading!


End file.
